


Damning and the Dreaming

by marshv



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Fear Play, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Power Play, Praise Kink, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 08:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13003461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshv/pseuds/marshv
Summary: Dagur had never stopped being terrifying. But then again, that was why Hiccup liked him.





	Damning and the Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I admit I'm about two seasons behind. I'm not totally sure when this takes place but it's definitely before the current season. I started this almost two years ago and wanted to finish it. As such, I'm a little rusty with the characterization. 
> 
> Dagur/Hiccup is such a great ship. I was always frustrated that it wasn't more popular. Sorry for no noncon, maybe someday, but I promise it's not fluffy and cutesy either! Anyway, here's some porn.

Hiccup had lost count of how many times they’d done this. But he figured it didn't matter anyway. Whether it was the third time or the twentieth one, it should never have happened in the first place.

But regardless, they were doing it. And Hiccup had long since stopped caring about propriety. He was tensed to the point he could hardly move, Dagur looming over him. The chief was all crooked teeth and shifty eyes. His muscles were flexed like a wild animal, ready to rip into his prey. The raw power of his body made Hiccup feel cold. Exposed. Feral green eyes drank him in, eyeing him up like a tender piece of meat.

They only really met because their fathers knew each other. But even back then, Dagur had always been odd. Scary, really, and obsessed over Hiccup for years. For some reason the fact that the obsession was sexual never sunk in. It became obvious though when Hiccup looked back, remembering everything Dagur said, every move he made.

Not that any of it was relevant anymore.

He stood, totally helpless, cornered by a man who was bigger, more physically impressive, and all around stronger than he could ever be. Dagur was giving him that look, too. A look based on an intense, innate craving, one that told Dagur to claim every inch of Hiccup’s body. To take over. To grab him and force him to do what he wanted, to be where Dagur wanted him to be, because Hiccup didn't have any control anymore.

Hiccup didn't _want_ control.

Dagur’s look was one Hiccup had never seen on anyone before, and it was thrilling because it was directed at _him_. Dagur wanted him. And that managed to both scare and turn him on.

Hiccup was currently struggling to support himself, knees turning to mush. His limbs shivered, the foot of his prosthetic scraping against the wood floor and squeaking, thigh muscles quaking. 

Dagur stood proudly without faltering, staring him down, willing him to submit. Compared to Dagur, Hiccup was weak. He didn't have the height or weight or bodily strength that he should for his size. Puberty never filled him out like he hoped it would. Dagur still liked him though, said he had pretty skin, pretty lips, and told him he wanted to fuck his mouth. It was nice.

But Dagur? Dagur was incredible. He'd always been bigger, but now he looked like he could snap Hiccup in two. A source of raw, unpolished, unstoppable power with a mind to match, he dwarfed Hiccup, not just in size but in sheer presence. He took up an entire room and managed to draw attention with ear-shattering cackles and rapid, erratic movements. Intimidating people just by sight alone. His size wasn't as large as the other vikings, but with his bloodlust, he didn't really need it.

And maybe it was because it was so hot tonight, maybe it was because he had too much mead earlier, but Hiccup was having a really hard time not gawking at him. It certainly wasn’t because Dagur had grown up really _really_ nice looking and Hiccup was just admiring him in a totally platonic way.

It couldn’t be that because it had stopped being platonic a long, _long_ time ago.

One of Dagur’s hands was resting on Hiccup’s cheek. He didn't remember how it got there. The sensation of rough, calloused fingertips, slowly traced over his skin and stirred up hormones in his gut. Thick, labor laden digits padded over his temple, brushing away stray hairs to feel as much flesh as they can get to. Tickling him. Sparks slithered down the back of his neck like rivulets of cold water, the tremor coursing through his body and shocking his senses.

As much of a nut job as he was, Dagur was methodical. He was careful. He touched Hiccup’s skin like it was more rich and rare than a chest of gold. Like it was more satisfying to him than getting his hands on that damned skrill. Hiccup actually knew that one to be true because Dagur had told him. _Silly Hiccup! Why would I want the skrill when you’re so much more valuable?_

Blood pounded in his head from the fires igniting under Dagur’s fingers. The firm touches fanned the flames already burning and pulsing hard between his legs. Hiccup lifted his hips with a moan. Fingers traced down the side of his face again, passing over freckles and rosy skin, ending at his collarbone, wet and glowing from the sweat that had rolled the length of his face and gathered there.

When the movements paused, he realized Dagur was inspecting his neck; He loved his neck. It was small. Skinny like the rest of him. Dagur’s hand could wrap around it without a problem. He was so focused, his jaw set so tight while he poked and prodded, Hiccup thought he was going to tear his throat out.

His breath started coming in rapid, uneven gasps, little puffs of air that made Dagur smirk. When Dagur touched his nose to Hiccup’s ear, Hiccup’s breathing became whines, throat tight with fear. He tilted his neck to the side to offer more skin—not that he needed to, Dagur would just take what he wanted anyway.

The sound of a deep growl rose from Dagur’s throat at the gesture, as well as the sight of new skin. Forceful. Possessive. Completely submissive to the young chief, Hiccup’s knees finally buckled, and Dagur caught him with a suffocating grip.  

As he held the little Hooligan heir against his chest, Dagur looked down at him with an unsettlingly calm smile, admiring him. He’d been unusually quiet, Hiccup realized, and he hated it. Hiccup wanted hair pulling, screaming, and arms forcing him to the ground. Not romance.

“Please,” Hiccup’s voice was an octave too high and almost inaudible.

Dagur’s visage dropped instantly, to Hiccup’s relief, and he laughed at him—that savage, ear-splitting cackle he always did when he was delighted by something horrible—pleased at hearing the smaller viking’s need and desperation vocalized so beautifully. It had Hiccup turning even redder. He knew Dagur liked it, got his rocks off from seeing Hiccup insecure and afraid.

The perceived romance in his expression became predatory. Shaking his head, Dagur dropped Hiccup to the ground with a painful thump. He glared down, hands on his hips, biceps standing out and looking like sculpted marble except they were even more perfect. They were real and warm and hiccup decided he _really_ needed Dagur to start manhandling him again as soon as possible.

“Look at you, Hiccup! Begging for me already? You're so cute!” he broke the silence by shouting, bouncing on the balls of his feet from either excitement or intoxication or possibly both.

The smile on his face faltered. He spoke again, softer, like he actually wanted Hiccup to answer him.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”

But Hiccup didn't say anything, but he shivered. Swallowing at his tone. A chill ran down his neck. It was the calm before the storm. A madman’s disarmingly sweet voice that suggested security, only to erupt into screaming and violence.

He watched Dagur bend down to him. He caught Hiccup’s neck between his fingers, instilling a sense of danger, and forced his face to look straight at him. Fingers pinched into the supple skin over his arteries and squeezed. He didn't get a chance to take a breath before he gasped for air, Dagur pushing down on his windpipe.

“I'm going to make you mine. You're mine, Hiccup.” he tilted Hiccup’s head down a few inches.

For the first time that night, Hiccup’s attention was drawn to Dagur’s groin. Lightheaded, he glanced at it. Dagur grabbed himself through his armor kilt, his free hand cupping his erection and rubbing himself.

“Fuck yes,” Dagur hissed to himself at the contact. “Can't wait to get inside you again.”

The hand tightened around Hiccup’s neck and Hiccup wanted so badly to get his mouth on Dagur’s cock. Nails bit into the sides of his throat and cut him, marked him, the pain making Hiccup’s own cock twitch. The steady loss of oxygen had his eyes falling shut and his hips spasming. A tiny squeak was his only response when Dagur increased the pressure on his throat, steadily suffocating him.

“I'll let you pick. How's that sound? Ass or mouth?”

With his last bit of strength, Hiccup let his mouth fall open and his tongue hang out, hoping Dagur got the message. He didn't see the delight on his face.

Right before he was about to pass out, Dagur let him go, and he fell onto his hands and knees, metal leg colliding with a loud thump. A heavy rush of air filled his lungs and he coughed, straining to get in as much as he could. The danger of being choked, of putting his life in the hands of someone who had tried to kill him, sizzled in his stomach, traveling down to throb between his legs. He was aware of how tight and painful his pants were.

“Get. Up,” Dagur ordered, stating each word like a threat. He had slowed his movements over his own still-clothed erection. “On your knees. Hands behind your back.”

The bluntness of his orders shot right to his core. Without hesitation, Hiccup did as ordered. His body was still shivering from the mental stimulation, mind in a fog. He looked Dagur in the eye for a second, eyes still lidded, then dropped his gaze to eye level—at Dagur’s sizeable erection, still hidden behind clothes. It looked so powerful next to the armor, forcing it aside despite the strength of the material, and stuck out in a way that he couldn't ignore.

Dagur got Hiccup’s attention by touching his neck again. But instead of choking him, he started massaging him. He groaned, long and slow. Fingers rolled over lymph nodes and squeezed gently around his throat, pausing like that, then pressed into the sensitive dips of his shoulders and rubbed under his jaw. It made Hiccup feel warm, relaxed, like he had stepped into a hot bath. Another press of fingers and he slumped into the feeling.

“Good right?” Dagur said it like it was nothing. “I’m gonna make you feel good, brother. But first, you gotta let me into that mouth of yours.”

He pinched him then, jagged nails into soft, pristine flesh, eliciting a whine. More marks. Always more marks. Hiccup was running out of excuses for them.

“Purple is really your color.”

A small, shy smile erupted on Hiccup’s face. He had never gotten a handle on his heart or the way it would burst whenever Dagur gave him the tiniest compliment. Dagur however, didn't seem to mind, and leaned in to give him a tiny peck. It really had no place in the current scenario, but Hiccup couldn't help but blush at it.

In favor of getting down close to his face, Dagur let go of Hiccup’s neck. Nosing the sensitive skin under Hiccup’s ear, he let out a slow breath to tickle the tiny hairs there, burying his nose in to inhale the scent, savoring the moment and shuddering.

“Delicious,” he licked his lips. “Open wide for me, baby.”

Hiccup moved to open his mouth, obliging. And Dagur straightened up, took out his cock a split second later, and held the thick girth of it in one hand. Hiccup’s eyes roamed over its length, watching him, loving the view as the other began stroking it, rubbing the tight skin, thumbing over the fat purple head, already shining with pre-cum.

Tongue loling out, his lips wet, Hiccup’s mouth was wide open. Little moans. Little whimpers and cries. His eyes were shut halfway, dazed and foggy. Dagur looked down and giggled, dragging his cock over Hiccup’s lips, saliva connecting his mouth and cock with a wet drip.

“You're so good for me. So well behaved. You love this don't you?”

Hiccup nodded, a nasally sound coming from him when Dugur placed his cock on his tongue.

“My little Hiccup looks so pretty!”

Praise. Praise and more praise. Hiccup couldn't handle it. Too much. He needed it. He fell forward of his own accord, letting Dagur impale his throat. No warning, no hint of what was coming. Dagur gasped, actually gasped, and looked like he legitimately wasn't expecting it.

“Wow you're really desperate aren't you?” he laughed and took one hand to rip at Hiccup’s hair, tugging at the roots while his cock slipped down his throat. “Missed me didn't you, baby?”

Throats muscles swallowed, massaging Dagur’s length and squeezing the head. Hiccup allowed his eyes to fall shut, just barely hanging open. He still gagged, nostrils flaring as he breathed, but he took it. Dagur pushed in the rest of the way and groaned, holding there, and Hiccup’s nose was tickled by the curly red hair at Dagur’s base.

It started off slow and steady. Dagur began to tug his cock out, dragging it back until just the head remained. The wide tip held Hiccup’s mouth open, lips pretty and red and shiny. Then Dagur slid back inside until his cock was warmed again, constricted by the hot wetness of Hiccup’s struggling throat.

Hiccup kept up without effort, letting himself be used and violated over and over without objection. Relishing in the control Dagur had, happy to be useful in such a delicious way. But then, as Dagur tended to do, the movements sped up, out of nowhere, and he pistoned his hips with lightning speed. In and out, cock thrusting between the soft warmth of his lips, Hiccup’s eyes went wide, brows furrowing as he concentrated his breathing.

“You're getting so good at this, babe,” Dagur breathed, his voice at half power. “Taking me so well.”

Hiccup groaned, pants tightening. So good. His eyes closed slowly again, relaxing, getting used to the erratic pace. He let Dagur yank on him, dragging and forcing his head and hair anywhere he wanted. Fingers curling against his scalp, he was forced to keep his face against Dagur’s abdomen, inhaling the heady scent of his moving body.

Little drips of cum started filling his mouth, sliding down his throat and making him gag even more. Drenching his lips. Like a mark of ownership. It rolled down his chin as it overflowed.

But Dagur wasn't finished. And he jerked his cock away with a pop, leaving Hiccup with swollen lips, bright red and drenched in spit and pre-cum.

“Huh?” He was looking forward to having Dagur covering his face, cumming over his nose and cheeks, claiming him. But Dagur had other plans, and was breathing like he'd been chasing down a wild boar. Watching him.

Looking down, Dagur had sweat down his face and arms. Clenching his teeth, fists at his sides, his cock still stood to attention, glistening. Just standing there, ready to go again.

“Hands and knees,” he ordered, and Hiccup’s own erection twitched at the hardness of his voice.

He did as he was told, abdomen hot with desire, sweat pooling along his hairline. His cock felt trapped, straining, tingling with the need for friction and contact. The feel of one big meaty hand on his back pushed him down, his elbows bending on instinct, ass sticking up with Dagur crouching behind.

“Oh yeah,” he leered lowly, hands clapping together. “Gonna get you good, brother.”

Fingers tore Hiccup’s trousers over the swell of his cheeks, soft skin exposing, little by little, to the cool room. Dagur bit his lips as it came into view. Hiccup hissed, crying out as the chilly air touched his entrance, while Dagur grabbed two handfuls of his ass, kneading the flesh, and blew over the tiny ring of muscle.

“Such a cute little body and it’s all _mine_.”

He ran his thumbs along his Hiccup’s entrance, rubbing it, willing it to relax and open. Leaning forward, palms still squeezing Hiccup’s pretty skin, Dagur took one long swipe of his tongue, warm and wet, and ran it over the trembling hole.

Hiccup squirmed immediately, hips rocking into the pleasant heat of Dagur’s mouth. Crying from how good it was. But just like that, Dagur pulled away, and Hiccup was left dripping, Dagur’s thumbs resuming their rubbing motions.

“That feel good? You like that?”

The smirk on Dagur’s face was visible in Hiccup’s mind. Not that he was paying much attention, not with two thick fingers currently pressing into his ass. He loved being filled, being stretched. Dagur took his time stroking inside, pulling the hole wider, bigger, until it was loose, gaping just enough that Dagur could jam his cock in.

Sounds of knees walking on the floor, Dagur getting in position, shuffling in, told Hiccup to hold his breath. His hips started rocking backward, himself whining, pleading, when he felt Dagur rest the length of his erection between his ass. So close. He was open and ready and Dagur was _right_ _there_ _._

“You're so into this. You can hardly walk as it is and you _still_ want it.”

Dagur shifted to press a quick kiss to his ear, and Hiccup jumped at the sudden feeling, Dagur’s voice now low. Dangerous.

“I deserve this. I deserve you. You're mine, Hiccup. No one else’s. Don’t ever fucking forget that.”

Hiccup nodded, still quivering with need. Dagur’s tone shot straight to his core, cock bouncing under his stomach at the sound.

“Yours,” he whimpered.

A deadly smile stretched into place. Hiccup felt it on his neck, where Dagur was, teeth poking the delicate skin under his ear.

“Good boy.”

A thrust of hips. A groaning, jaw clenching scream. Sensitive flesh stretching. And Dagur shoved inside him with one quick go. Hiccup’s breath caught in his throat. All he could do was stare ahead, mouth hanging, with his ass spread open. His muscles expanded, twitching, opening to let in the pulsing cock being forced inside.

“Big,” Hiccup choked out.

“Damn right,” Dagur prided. “It's your own fault for being so tiny and cute, you know.”

Hiccup let the compliment sink in, thighs quivering.

The fat tip was smooth, soft compared to the rest of Dagur’s erection, and was shoved right up against Hiccup’s prostate. Dagur held it there, knowing exactly what he was doing, and jerked his hips forward, impaling Hiccup the rest of the way. His hips were flush against him, and Hiccup's soft ass was pressed into Dagur’s abdomen. The entirety of his cock was inside him, jammed in all the way to the root.

“This ass is mine,” Dagur growled, his fingers dug painfully into the flesh of Hiccup’s sides. “Mine.”

Hiccup’s muscles twitched around the large intrusion, pressure building until his eyes started to fall shut. It was easy for Dagur to feel, his cock so sensitive. The silky insides spasming around him, clutching at his length, made him dig in even more. Fingers left welts on Hiccup’s skin, and the pain had him moaning.

Pulling out, Dagur slid along Hiccup’s walls. The head held him open, keeping Hiccup wide and ready, his sweet hole as red as his lips were when he fucked his mouth. Dagur admired the sight.

“Get ready.”

Hiccup held his breath again. Waiting. Anticipating the assault on his body by Dagur’s larger, more powerful one. Behind him, Dagur inhaled, letting out a hiss. Then, he went for it. All out. Hips driving into him and the semblance of quiet Hiccup tried to keep was gone. Shattered and ripped from him as Dagur drove in.

His senses had gone absolutely nuts. At this point, he relented, focused entirely on the burning in his ass, the orgasm building in his core, while Dagur’s wrecked his body from the inside out.

Dagur’s eyes were fixed to the arch of Hiccup’s spine and the sweet curve of his ass. Skin against skin, the sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room as he fucked him. The entire length was buried, sliding in and out and soaking their thighs with lines of cum. Leaking. Hiccup was so soft, his opening so smooth. Hot, velvety walls squeezed and fluttered around his erection. It sucked him in, all of it tight and warm and wonderful. Like he was made for him.

He felt an immense sense of power knowing he was Hiccup’s first. Even if they'd done this before, the triumph when Dagur finally claimed him was indescribable.

Below him, on his hands and knees, Hiccup was quivering. Shaking, sobbing, and trying so hard to stand up to the thick cock being shoved into him, filling him over and over again and stretching him. Filling him. He felt the skin around his hole sliding and pulling every time Dagur pumped into him. Everything wet and dripping, it fell down his legs in white rivulets. Shallow, begging whines poured from Hiccup’s drooling mouth.

He pictured the scene, how he must have looked: His entrance open, their bodies shining with sweat, Dagur’s back and arm muscles impressive and flexing as he forced Hiccup to take his cock. It felt so dirty. So good. It was scandalous, chief of the Berserkers and son of the Hooligan’s esteemed chief, fucking so rough and so hard that it ended in bruises.

Hiccup let out a loud moan that echoed through the building. It was an accident, and part of him cursed himself for the noise, but the other half was praying someone found them. Cast him out. Tore away his title. Got him the hell away from all his responsibilities.

At last, his weak arms buckled and he dropped his head down like a ton of iron, hiding his face in his elbows while Dagur plowed into him.

“Don't look so down, Hiccup!” Dagur grunted with his head thrown back. The heat surrounding his dick and the image of his longtime object of obsession being willingly fucked open, dominated, and brutalized sent him into a wave of laughter.

“I've had to daydream about fucking you for years, but now you're aaaall mine .”

“Yours,” Hiccup repeated to him. It was automatic.

“You've wanted this too haven't you? You fucking _whore_.” Dagur spat the last word and Hiccup felt his cock drip at how filthy it made him feel.

“ _Yes_.” he hissed. “Yes, Dagur please.”

“You love getting fucked, don't you? You live for this!”

“Yes…!” his eyes rolled up, groaning as Dagur gave a hard pound to his prostate.

“You like that?” he thrust into him again. “How would your tribe feel if they knew what you were doing? Sweet little Hiccup, always on his knees.”

Hiccup choked on a breath at the words.

“Th-they'd be ashamed.”

“You'd probably like that, huh?”

“Yes,” he groaned. He was so close. So close.

Continuing to mark his skin, bruising his pretty freckled hips, Dagur licked his teeth at the slick skin before him. They moved in a frantic tandem, a constant back and forth, while manic giggling slipped through Dagur’s teeth. Hiccup felt the sensations, the pain and pleasure clouding his head, skin stretched too wide, pressure building higher as Dagur fucked him, welts rising where nails grabbed his tender skin. It was so much, more than his body could take.

Dagur was tight against his back, breath hot and cruel on the shell of Hiccup’s ear. He couldn’t remember him bending over him like that, but the feel of warm, quick breaths on his ear, blowing his hair around, was intimate, connecting them. Meant to be.

All at once, his body convulsed. Pressure and tingles pulsed in his abdomen, slowly at first, then widened, spreading through his thighs and stomach. His eyes burned from rolling upward so much, and he screwed them shut, crying out.

Saliva dripped from his mouth, pooling, he didn't bother to keep it closed with the absurd number of noises he was making. A guttural, severe moan ripped from him when his muscles started clenching around Dagur’s cock, craving the way it spread him, desperate to keep him against his prostate as he rode out his orgasm, to have him balls deep when he finally shot his load.

At last, as Hiccup arched his spine, after being pounded to Valhalla and back, he felt Dagur filling him. Cumming long and loud. Streaking his ass with obscene amounts of cum. He was pressed into him as far as possible, streaming thick ropes up inside his body. Hiccup just barely registered the triumphant scream the other made, a sound he’d heard a million times before, as he fell to the floor, dazed. Legs aching, body wrecked and sore.

-

He had no idea how long he was out. But when he came too, he was aware of the feel of something long and thick still inside him. They hadn’t moved at all.

“Hiccup?”

The fog in his head was slowly clearing. He felt the touch of rough fingers threading over his scalp, smoothing down sweat-soaked hair and rubbing little patterns lovingly into his skin.

“Hey? You ok?” A voice asked. A voice that was normally much harsher, and much more deranged.

“Mmm.”

Hiccup felt bliss. Lazy movements gave way to him rolling closer, seeking the fingers in his hair, pressing his head into the hand and letting out a sigh of contentment.

“Dagur?” he finally slurred.

“I'm right here, baby, c’mere.”

Dagur’s hands moved to drag Hiccup into his arms, resting him on his chest. Hiccup’s limbs were as limp and useless as a three-legged sheep. With his head tucked under Dagur’s chin, he actually felt tired. Exhaustion set in easily. And the strong, unpredictable power, the familiarity of the body holding him, made him feel warm and safe.

The press of lips and a scraggly beard against his forehead had him smiling. It was always interesting, if not shocking, the way Dagur’s personality would make a complete turnaround. The softness he exuded during the afterglow, though Hiccup normally despised it, was the only time he tolerated Dagur treating him so gently.

Even now, the glow fading, his senses coming about, Hiccup began to feel uncomfortable with the loving hands folded around his back. The feather-light kisses to his forehead burned, unpleasant. And as much as he lived for Dagur’s thick, rippling body, being pressed against him with such a caring touch was beginning to make him sick.

“They’re probably looking for you,” Dagur chided, scratching under Hiccup’s chin like a cat.

“I could say the same to you, you know.”

Dagur scoffed, a noise too grating in the quiet atmosphere.

“You could say that! But you’d be wrong! Don’t forget that I’m a chief, my little Hiccup. I can do what I want.”

“Oh yeah?” Hiccup mumbled against his chest, pushing up and away, needing space. “And what do you want to do?”

With a comically exaggerated gesture, Dagur rubbed at his chin, thinking and looking up at the ceiling. But when he looked back to Hiccup up, the humorous expression did a turn, a complete turn, and Hiccup felt the shocks of fear he knew too well, trickling down his spine, hairs on his neck standing on end, at the hypnotizing way Dagur pierced him with his eyes.

“I’d like to do you again,” he grinned, face splitting from the unnatural wideness of his smile.

And Hiccup suppressed a shudder.

**Author's Note:**

> As always I take [commissions](http://dipperpines.com/fics)


End file.
